When Hari Met His Saali (13 page)

‘Close the
purdas
, Simi.’

After Simi had shut the curtains, she saw her mom sitting on the bed with one leg crossed and the other hanging outside the bed. She patted the seat in front of her. Simi sat down.

Her mother brought out a bundle of silverware, neatly tied in a red velvet cloth, from under her pillow. Simi looked at her mom curiously as Mrs. Galhotra scanned the room and studied the closed curtains to make sure it was safe, and then opened the bundle. Inside were several heavy silver
thalis
, spoons, glasses and various other precious items. She showed them to Simi and then leaned forward and whispered: ‘I went to our locker at the Bank of Maharashtra this morning and took this out. I had it evaluated at Butak
bhai
jewelers in Shivaji Nagar. He is going to give me eighty thousand for these …’

Simi didn’t let her mother finish. She knew her mom was trying to sell off the family inheritance so that she could go to the U.S.

‘Mom, why do you want to sell these? These are grandmother’s and you’ve been saving them forever,’ Simi said rather loudly.

Her mom hushed her.

‘Shhh,
dheere bol na. Koyi sun lega
, why are you speaking so loudly, someone will hear us and know that we have silver at home.’

Simi leaned forward and was about to say something when her mother grabbed her wrists and warned her: ‘You have my
kasam
you will let me speak. Now, I have decided that you are going to America. I have enough money for your ticket, Tia’s gift and some extra money for you to spend while you are there.’

‘But, Mom …’ Simi was trying to remove her hand from her mother’s grip which, powered by her emotions and intent, was very strong today.

‘I have been saving this for what? I am not taking this with me when I die,
na
? I have been saving these for both of your weddings only,
na
? I have equal share for you and Tia. If not now, when will I use this, and for what?’ Simi’s mother had tears in her eyes.

‘But, Mom, there’s no need for this. I have enough money for my trip …’ Simi finally removed her hands from her mother’s grip and stood up.

‘No you don’t, I know you don’t. And even if you do, save it for your own future; for your expenses.
Bas
, I have decided that I will pay for your trip and don’t worry, your share is safe with me, OK?’ her mother said, amping up the emotional
atyachaar.

‘I will give you the same amount for your wedding, Simi. Do you girls think that your mother is not capable of taking care of both of you? I tell you, I am a very strong woman and I promise you that I am not going to die before I see you settled as well.’

Simi got really angry because she knew that she could never win this argument.

‘Mom, why do you always have to talk about my wedding; you dying? You know I don’t like that.’

But Simi’s heart melted and she stopped talking as she saw her mother take out a green jade studded necklace. It was set on a heavy silver chain with a big diamond in the center.

‘Wow, Mom, whose is this?’

She came closer to her mother.

‘Your
nani
wore this for her wedding. They don’t make silver like this any more
bete.
Look at the quality of the diamond.’

Her mother’s mood had suddenly changed. She was full of pride. This often happens when women handle jewelry. Simi took the necklace in her hand and her mood changed as well. She instinctively put it to her neck and looked into the mirror. It suited her!

‘This will look so good on Tia, no matter what she’s wearing,’ her mother said as she dug into the jewelry box without realizing that Simi was admiring the necklace for herself.

Simi disappointedly took it off and handed it to her mother. But her mother also had a sister, and she knew how sisters think, so she showed another equally elaborate necklace to Simi. This one had rubies studded on it along with a similar diamond at the center.

‘And this I have been saving for your wedding.’

Simi put it up to her neck and looked at herself in the mirror.

I like Tia’s better. It looks more sophisticated.

The thought crossed her mind with a slight tinge of jealousy, but she quickly abandoned it and turned to her mother smiling.

‘All in all, I am going to have two and a half lakh rupees after selling the silver,’ Mrs. Galhotra said. ‘That should be enough for your trip. And now, don’t haggle with me over the money, OK?’ she said proudly as she leaned back on the cushions.

Simi gave the necklace back to her mother and sat down next to her.

‘Mom, please, please
meri baat mano
, why can’t we both go to America. I’ll be with you all the time. You don’t have to worry; I won’t let you feel alone, Mom. It’ll be so much fun!’ Simi put her head on her mother’s lap.

Her mother was putting everything back in exactly the same careful way she had pulled them out. She fought back her tears, but her stuck-up pride would not allow her to go to America.

‘My days are almost over. You have a whole life ahead of you. You will go to America, without me.’

‘But, Mom. You always do this. This whole, unnesecassry melodrama …’

‘I have spoken to
Didi
and while you are gone I’ll stay with your
Mausi
, OK. I’ll be fine.’

Simi hugged her mother. She promised herself that she’d get something really nice for her mother from America.

Over the next two days everything happened very fast and in frenzy. Jenny’s letter of recommendation had arrived at her office via courier, and after seeing the letter even Mr. Khanna was in awe of the Simi-Tia collaboration.

‘This letter is as good as a visa stamp, Simi. How did your sister manage this?’

The following day Simi went to Mumbai with Shabnam — who knew the entire visa procedure rigmarole. They took the Duronto Express, a nonstop train from Nagpur to Mumbai that left at eight p.m. and arrived in Mumbai at seven a.m. the next morning. By nine-thirty a.m. they were in a line to get into the American consulate in the Bandra-Kurla complex and by noon Simi had a visa stamped on her passport.

The visa interview lasted three minutes. The issuing officer looked at Jenny’s sponsor letter, Tia’s invitation card, looked Simi up and down, and then smiled and stamped the passport. It was a ten-year multiple entry visa.

Shabnam was smoking a cigarette at a
paan
shop outside the consulate thinking that it would take Simi at least an hour or so, and when Simi tapped her on the shoulder. Shabnam was so shocked to hear that she’d been given a ten-year multiple entry visa that she choked on the smoke.

‘Since when do you smoke?’ Simi was more concerned about Shabnam’s smoking than her visa.

Shabnam took the passport from Simi’s hand and turned to the visa page.

‘What? They gave you a visa just like that? They didn’t ask any questions?’ Shabnam tried to not speak too loudly but Simi was feeling awkward.

There were hoards of people standing outside the consulate, looking at Simi with admiration. There were many hopefuls hanging around what is one of the busiest American consulates in the world. People here were so well versed in body language that upon people exiting the embassy, they could tell who got a visa, who got rejected, whose interview went great, who was feeling betrayed by the United States Government. They knew Simi had got her visa. Most were polite and the
paan
shop guy refused to take money from Shabnam for her cigarette, simply smiling at Simi: ‘Congratulations, Madam’.

By late evening they were on the Duronto Express back to Nagpur, but not before Shabnam had gulped down three 750ml bottles of Kingfisher beer
and smoked a packet of Marlboro reds at a shady café near the station. After the first bottle, Shabnam explained to Simi that she felt a sense of freedom and anonymity in Mumbai that she couldn’t get in Nagpur so every time she came to Mumbai she did things openly; things she couldn’t do openly in Nagpur. Her theory was that there was too much gossip in small towns. And that people were too judgemental.

Simi didn’t indulge in either the beer or the cigarettes. She had tasted beer long back and had hated it, but she understood why Shabnam would do it although she would not understand why or what was she trying to express with her behavior.

Simi was glad to be back in Nagpur the following morning. Once home she tried to reach Tia to give her the good news, but neither her call nor her text was going through.

Next evening — New York

When Tia arrived at the Waldorf Astoria she was awestruck by the architecture of the historic hotel, but she was careful not to display too much excitement, as Stephan was right next to her. As he was checking in at the reception counter, she moved a little closer to him. She was wearing a fabulous steel gray power suit by Tahari and a pair of four-inch heels by Charlotte Olympia that had cost her more than a month’s salary. She was still a foot shorter than Stephan, who was dressed sharply in jeans and a blazer.

Even though she knew that they would be in different rooms, Tia felt a little disappointed when she realized that Stephan’s room was on a completely different floor to hers. But the view from her room sort of made up for that little misfortune. The bathroom was a marvel of architecture if ever there was one. If she were on vacation she would have lived in that bathroom. The bathtub was so inviting. She wondered whether Stephan had eased himself into his own bathtub and she filled hers with warm water.

When they met for dinner at the hotel’s restaurant Tia cursed herself for overdressing. Stephan was casually dressed in khakis and a sweater. During dinner she asked Stephan what he was hoping for from the contract.

‘I mean, apart from the money, of course.’

Stephan paused for a moment before he answered.

‘Well Tia, to be perfectly honest, when I started our firm I wanted a presence on both the west and east coasts, but over the years — and by the time I established our work and reputation on the west coast, in California — I have sort of let go of the dream to set up offices here in New York. I
know Clara doesn’t like it up here so I don’t want to have her move here, even for a couple of years.’

Tia latched on to every single word, but she knew she had to bring up her becoming a partner at some point. This seemed like a relaxed enough environment for her to mention it.

‘Do you plan to hand over the east coast operations to one of your partners?’ she asked casually while stirring her drink.

‘Not really,’ Stephan replied. ‘I’ve wanted to do the Jewish Heritage Museum for the longest time. This is a one-off deal. But if any of the younger partners want to settle down and work in New York, I am open to the idea,’ Stephan explained earnestly. Then he leaned forward.

‘Why do you ask? You want to move to the Big Apple?’

‘No, no I don’t, but I do want to become a partner in the firm, Stephan. It may sound premature to even mention it, but you know that I have handled many big projects before and you know I’ll get this contract as well,’ she just blurted out — because sometimes that’s the best way.

‘Not that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind, Tia, but here’s the thing and you’ll have to understand this in proper context. I want to see how you close this museum deal. You know the Jewish Heritage Museum committee is an orthodox and a conservative body. An Indian architect designing a New York Jewish Heritage Museum is what I want to see, and I made my decision when I made you the lead architect. Now it’s up to the committee. And it could be a tough sell. Do you understand what I am saying here?’ Stephan was being as sensitive as he could.

‘All I heard was pressure, pressure,’ Tia joked, taking a big swig of her wine. ‘Of course, I understand.’

‘Don’t worry, you’ll do fine and I’ll be there,’ Stephan assured her as the food was served.

Tia didn’t sleep a wink that night. She paced back and forth in her room practicing her pitch. She had the drawings on an easel stand she had asked the front desk to arrange for and was pointing to it, making notes on which words to emphasize upon and when to take a breather.

By ten o’clock the next morning it wasn’t until Tia was midway through her presentation to the committee that she realized that she had everyone in the room engaged. Her firmness on her suggested design elements had the committee agreeing with her. When she finished her presentation she took a sip of water. The way she had manipulated the pitch, she knew what questions were going to come. She was in control of the room.

‘But your design still does not solve the issue of space scarcity,’ asked an elderly gentleman. Tia already knew that was going to be the first question.

‘If you turn to page twenty-two of the proposal you’ll see that I have incorporated a cantilever beam design for the outskirts of the primary museum hall. This not only gives us nineteen percent more space but it’ll also save us six percent on construction costs,’ Tia answered confidently.

It was a deliberate move not to give this information in her pitch — which anyone else would have eagerly done — but by withholding the information and having the committee ask it in the follow-up questions she had let them believe they were really grilling her. She would go on to answer their questions and concerns one by one with sharp, crisp and pertinent answers. At one point, she squeezed in that the entire design was inspired by the way ancient temples in India were designed. The spatial utility was maximized by the ingenuity of the design, which in itself was created with the comfort of the worshippers in mind. The same principal would apply to a museum where equal, if not more, weight should be given to its visitors and how their time is utilized while they wait in line.

Forty minutes later Stephan was signing an initial agreement with the committee. Funds allocated to Tia and her teams were in the tune of six million dollars. Both Stephan and Tia would hold back their excitement until they were outside in their Lincoln Town Car.

‘Six million! Tia, I was thinking more in the two to three million range. You convinced them to go to six. Congratulations!’ Stephan was ecstatic.